


Surround my bones

by Fillorianne (kat_fanfic)



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Before the threesome, Dealing With Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e11 Remedial Battle Magic, Fluff, Hinted thoughts of suicide, M/M, Margo being amazing, Mike aftermath, Missing Scene, Of a sorts, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Relationship, References to Depression, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 20:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_fanfic/pseuds/Fillorianne
Summary: By then, Quentin was kind of used to being manhandled like this, so he just went with it, letting himself be draped and arranged to Eliot’s wishes. Finally, he was half-lying, half-sitting in his friend’s lap, their legs tangled, his head tucked underneath Eliot’s chin and with the older man’s left hand buried in his hair at the nape of his neck.





	Surround my bones

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of nowhere, needed a major rewrite to even FIT anywhere in the storyline and, yeah. Enjoy? Yeah.
> 
>  
> 
> Title is from "Kindly calm me down" by Meghan Trainor, which was a major influence on this weird little story.

„Q.“

Quentin looked up, pushing a strand of hair back behind his ear. „Hm?“

“C’mere.” Eliot was crooking a finger at him, beckoning him towards the couch, where the other man was sprawled into a veritable mountains of pillows. For once, he seemed to be relatively sober and in a mellow kind of mood, a rare occurrence since Mike. 

Quentin waved in the direction of the door. “I was about to get dinner-“

“Margo’s gone for Vietnamese,” Eliot interrupted him. “She’ll probably bring back enough to feed the entire house.”

Knowing Margo, that was a probable assumption. “I’ll got set up the table then-”

“Nope.” Eliot’s eyes focused on him and Quentin was propelled forward, the telekinetic force gripping him gingerly but firmly. 

“Ugh,” Quentin said, both annoyed and amused. “You know, one of these days I’ll just use a shield spell.”

“Sure.” Eliot didn’t look worried. “But that would imply you being unwilling to come to me in the first place.”

Quentin huffed, but before he could think of an answer that wouldn’t stroke Eliot’s ego too much, he was landing right on top of him, pulled down by magic and caught securely by Eliot’s hands. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” the older man murmured.

“Jesus.” Penny, who was watching them from across the room, sounded just as annoyed as he always seemed to be ever since Kady had left. “Just get a fucking room already.”

Eliot tsked, his smile just this side of predatory. “Ah, but Penny, this isn’t about seduction. Yet.” He winked at Quentin. “You see, some of us have other basic needs that aren’t quite as, uh, carnal in nature.” He pulled Quentin closer as he spoke, tucking him into himself.

By then, Quentin was kind of used to being manhandled like this, so he just went with it, letting himself be draped and arranged to Eliot’s wishes. Finally, he was half-lying, half-sitting in his friend’s lap, their legs tangled, his head tucked underneath Eliot’s chin and with the older man’s left hand buried in his hair at the nape of his neck.

Eliot sighed, and a kiss was pressed onto Quentin’s forehead. “This is nice. I missed you today.”

Quentin smiled, strangely pleased with the situation. “I was here all day, El.”

Eliot made a disapproving sound. “Not _here_ here, though. You were all,” he waved his free hand in the air, fingers indicating several poppers without true intent, “practicing and researching and shit.”

“Well, someone had to find the specifics of the probability spells and-“

“Shush.” Eliot pressed his hand over his mouth. “No spell talk. Ruins the nice buzz I’ve got going.” 

“Hm.” Quentin turned his face a little, pressing his nose closer to the dip in Eliot’s collarbone, breathing him in without being too obvious about it. Eliot always smelled the same, no matter how disheveled he got, and Quentin had a suspicion that it was at least in part spell-based. It was a decidedly nice scent, though, a very alluring mix of expensive aftershave, fresh moss and tobacco, topped by just the tiniest hint of sandalwood.

Quentin relaxed into the gentle hold, lulled into a trance-like state of semi-consciousness by the steady _thump-thump-thump_ of Eliot’s heart underneath his ear. Eliot was warm, his body softer and more comfortable than his lanky frame suggested.

“You awake?”

Quentin more felt than heard the words, their low rumble pulling him back. “Kinda,” he sighed, looking up as he did. 

Eliot was smiling at him, the expression uncharacteristically unguarded. He combed a stray lock back from Quentin’s forehead, his thumb lingering over his brows, smoothing them. 

Quentin held still, eyes closing of their own volition. He’d never get used to this, not ever. With the people closest to him, Eliot was very free with his affection, very tactile, and Quentin was glad that he was one of the chosen few that qualified. 

Incredibly glad. Maybe too glad, even. It was a novel feeling, this _need_ for another person to be - and stay - in his life. 

He loved Julia. A lot. She was his oldest friend and would forever have a special place in his heart, no matter where life and circumstances took them. But this thing he had with Eliot? That was different. It was more, somehow. His feelings for the other man were complicated, rich, and a little bit dangerous, enough so that Quentin tried not to analyze them too much. 

Eliot stirred, stretching a little under Quentin’s weight, like a cat lying in a patch of sunlight. “Food’s here,” he murmured, yawning around the words. Margo’s voice echoed around the cottage a moment later, calling everybody down to get food or “starve like a 90s supermodel”.

Quentin sat up, pushing himself forward a bit until he could prop himself up on Eliot’s chest. “Hm,” he hummed, grinning at the way Eliot got a little cross-eyed because he was so close. “You make a good bed.”

“Oh,” Eliot smirked, one arm going behind his head. “Believe me, Q, I know.”

Quentin rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say you were good _in_ bed, El.”

“Yeah.” Eliot shrugged. “But you didn’t have to. It’s always implied.”

Quentin blushed, trying not to think about that too much, because last time he’d checked, Quentin had been in love with Alice, and his complicated feelings for Eliot had been stowed away in the back of his mind, neatly buried underneath the safety of their instant!friendship.

A soft flick against his forehead startled him back into the moment. “Huh?” he mumbled, nervous fingertips stroking over the soft fabric of Eliot’s vest in a repeating pattern. 

Eliot was studying him, changeable eyes looking green in the cottage’s dim light. “You’re thinking very loud right now,” he said, voice low and soft. “Penny would agree, I’m sure, had he not fucked off to parts unknown awhile ago. No bad thoughts allowed while cuddling, remember?” It was a rule Eliot had established early on in their friendship. Like, on day two.

“It, hm,” Quentin grimaced his way through the sentence. “It wasn’t a bad thought, though?”

Eliot’s lips quirked. “Are you asking or telling?”

Quentin swallowed. “Telling. Definitely telling. Yeah.”

“Well. Good.” Eliot stretched again, yawning a little. “Care to share with the class?”

Quentin ducked his head, thinking it over. “I,” he said, huffing in annoyance when his brain drew a blank. “I kind of, really like you. “

The corners of Eliot’s lips twitched, the grin just this side of a smirk. “I like you, too,” he murmured, his voice a whole octave deeper than before.

“No,” Quentin denied, frowning. “I mean, sure, great, but that’s not what I…” he trailed off, frustrated. This was important and again, he was fucking it up. “I don’t need you to say it back, El,” he finally managed. “I just, just needed to tell you so that you’d know, because I tend to forget saying stuff like this, and-“

“Q, hey,” Eliot moved underneath him, all coiled strength, somehow managing to get them both in a semi-upright position where they were eye to eye. “It’s alright, calm down.”

“No, but. You’re important,” Quentin blurted out. “To me, I mean. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re not.”

Eliot’s eyes searched his. “Right. I won’t then.”

Quentin let out a long breath, surprised by the strength of his relief. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Okay, good.” 

Impulsively, he leaned in and pressed a brief, close-lipped kiss to Eliot’s cheek. It was over almost before it had begun, but the brief contact left his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

Eliot looked taken aback, in a good sort of way. He was about to speak, eyes fixed on Quentin’s, when another voice rang out.

“You two are adorable.” Tone at odds with her words, Margo was rolling her eyes so hard, it looked painful. She had her hands pushed into her hips and stood right across from them, looking fabulous in the red one-piece she’d chosen to wear. “I really hope you get your own show on the Disney channel soon, but until then, can we please have dinner now, preferably without any PDA’s from the gay-straight alliance?”

“Shush, Margo.” Eliot seemed unconcerned by her scathing tone. “I claimed him first, remember? No need to get pissy about it now.”

She huffed, lips twitching seemingly against her will. “Fuck off, Eliot. It’s not like he’s a prize. Nerd wonder here is a bit too high maintenance for me.”

Quentin frowned, his affronted “hey!” drowned out by Eliot’s rumbling laugh. “Don’t listen to her,” the older man said, winking at Quentin. “You are a prince among men, Q, and don’t you let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Right.” Now it was Quentin’s turn to roll his eyes. “Very funny, Eliot.”

Margo’s face did something odd and then she looked at him as if he’d gotten popper twelve wrong. “Jesus, El,” she sighed. “You sure know how to pick them.”

The look they exchanged was complex, the dynamics between them going right over Quentin’s head. 

“Well,” Margo finally said, her tone strangely final. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”

Quentin watched her walk away. “What was that about?”

Eliot shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.” Sitting up, he gently dislodged Quentin. “Come on. Let’s go eat, before Margo decides to add our balls to tonight’s menu.”

Quentin frowned. Something had just happened, something that had affected Eliot’s mood. The playfulness was still there, but where Eliot had been open and warm before, he was now all hard edges and sarcasm again. 

“No, hey.” He grabbed Eliot’s arm, stopping him from getting up. “Can we just… I meant what I said before, El. I want to be there for you, and if you need to talk-“

Eliot was shaking his head, face downturned so that Quentin couldn’t see his expression. “Talking’s overrated, my dear Quentin. I’d much rather you fix me a drink.” He sort of waved, a dismissive little gesture. 

Quentin scowled. Oh, hell no. “Yeah, well, tough luck then,” he groused, annoyed that their easy rapport of only a moment ago seemed to be gone. “I’m not your fucking cabana boy, Eliot. If you want that drink so bad, go get it the fuck yourself.” Quentin trailed off, startled to realize that Eliot’s shoulders were shaking.

It took him a moment to realize that the other man was laughing. At him. Not in a mean way, but with a strange kind of exasperated affection that Eliot and Margo had in common. Quentin wasn’t sure he got the joke.

“Alright, Q,” Eliot murmured. “Christ. That was almost paternal, in a sweary, standoffish kind of way. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Quentin hadn’t meant for it to come out quite so challenging, but was glad for it when the corner of Eliot’s eyes crinkled in that weirdly disarming way he had. 

“Seems like it.” Eliot sighed and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I don’t,” he swallowed hard, eyes roaming around the room. “I’m not sure how to be me these days.” He gave a humorless chuckle. “I’m not even sure I can be.”

Quentin sucked in a sharp breath, tightness threatening to close his throat because he knew _exactly/ _how Eliot felt, had made it through this exact state of mind by the skin of his teeth so many times before. It hurt his heart to know that Eliot was going through it now. “You don’t have to be anything,” he said, surprised by how much he meant it. “Not for me.”__

__“Right.” Eliot wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. He sat rigid beside him, back so straight it looked painful. “Look, Q, I appreciate the effort, but things aren’t just gonna get better just because you get told pretty things. You of all people should know that.”_ _

__That stung. “Yeah,” he said, slowly, biting back the hurt. “Exactly. I do know. Which is why I refuse to rise to the bait, El.”_ _

__Eliot’s eyes snapped to his then. He pressed his lips together, saying nothing._ _

__Quentin snorted. “That’s what I thought. Give it up, Waugh, you’re dealing with a professional here. I’m not that easy to scare off.”_ _

__Eliot crumpled. There was no other word for it when one second he’d been upright, and the next, he seemed to be trying to disappear into the couch. “Shit.” His voice shook, face a study in misery. “I don’t know what you want from me. I’m dealing the best way I know how to, and if that’s not good enough…” He gave a helpless shrug._ _

__Quentin shook his head, frustrated. He wasn’t getting through to his friend, not like he felt he needed to. Taking a page out of Eliot’s book and going full-on physical, he pushed through a sudden, unexpected bout of body-shyness and simply climbed on top of him._ _

__“Wait, Quentin,” Eliot exclaimed, mindlessly gripping his waist to help balance him. “What are you doing?”_ _

__Settling on Eliot’s lap - no small feat considering they were both grown men - Quentin took his friend’s face in both of his hands. “What I want from you is a promise that you won’t give up. Do whatever it is you feel you need to, self-medicate, whatever, but,” he held Eliot’s gaze, “just promise me that when it gets to be too much, you’ll come to me first.”_ _

__Eliot’ breath hitched, and all of Quentin’s worst fears were confirmed. Repeating what the other man had done earlier, he stroked his thumbs over Eliot’s brows, smoothing the lines of pain and exhaustion he found there. “Can you promise me?” he whispered the question against Eliot’s skin, lips pressed to his forehead._ _

__“I don’t know.” Eliot’s voice was barely there._ _

__Quentin squeezed his eyes shut, fear pressing at his heart._ _

__“But I want to.”_ _

__Quentin let out a shuddering sigh as he heard the quiet words. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Alright. Good. That’s great.” He pulled back a little, just enough so that he could see Eliot’s eyes. “It’s enough.”_ _

__Eliot’s face did a complicated thing that ended with a soft sigh. “Okay.” He hesitated. “It. It will probably get worse before it gets better? I hope you’re prepared for that.”_ _

__Quentin nodded. “I know. And I am. ” He had no illusions about that, not when he knew so well the feeling of having to claw your way out of that pit. “But I also know that you’re one of the most stubborn and tenacious people I’ve ever met, so.” He didn’t quite voice the sentiment that he had faith in Eliot, but it was clear in the way the other man’s eyes widened, that the message had been received._ _

__Just then, something was clunked onto the table in front of them. Two plates heaping with food, deposited by Margo, who was hovering over them wearing exasperation like a cloak. “We have taken a vote,” she drawled, “and you two are officially banned from eating with the rest of us. Probably forever.” She set down two glasses. “This is water. Drink it, both of you.” She glared at Eliot. “And no wine - or anything else with alcohol - until those plates are licked clean.”_ _

__Eliot blinked up at her, innocence just oozing off of him._ _

__Margo rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I have spelled every ounce of liquor in the cottage to turn into vinegar the moment it touches your tongue, so go right ahead and have a little aperitif, why don’t you.”_ _

__“You’re bluffing.” Eliot didn’t sound sure about that at all._ _

__Quentin couldn’t see Margo’s face, as she was now directly behind him, but there was no mistaking her tone as she ground out a low, “Try me.”_ _

__“Uh,” Quentin said, meeting Eliot’s wide-eyed gaze. “I wouldn’t.”_ _

__He nodded, slowly. “Yeah, no shit.”_ _

__Quentin strained his neck to get her in his sights. “Thanks, Margo,” he said._ _

__She just uh-huhed in answer, eyebrows raised in irritation, but as she walked away, her hand trailed Quentin’s shoulders in a way that was decidedly not accidental, and he felt something in him relax. It was as close to a blessing of his handling of her best friend as he was going to get._ _

__Climbing off Eliot reluctantly, feeling a bit awkward now that the emotional blood-letting seemed to be over, Quentin grabbed one of the plates. “Hey,” he exclaimed, after taking in what she had gotten him. “This is my favorite!”_ _

__“Of course it is,” Eliot didn’t sound surprised._ _

__“But how did she know?”_ _

__Eliot was frowning at him now. “She’s Margo. She knows stuff like this.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Quentin acknowledged, “about _you_.”_ _

__Eliot shook his head. “About her friends.”_ _

__“Oh.” There was warmth in him now, more than there had ever been before. “Really? I mean, uh. That’s cool.”_ _

__“God, you’re an idiot,” Margo’s voice floated over to them, and Quentin groaned, trying to hide his burning face._ _

__“Yes,” Eliot agreed, shifting so that their shoulders were touching. “But he’s our idiot, right, Bambi?”_ _

__There was a significant pause. “Sure,” she answered then, drawing out the u, and nobody Quentin knew could convey so much affectionate disdain in a single word._ _

__Mumbling something under his breath about friends and enemies, and how one sometimes couldn’t really distinguish the two, Quentin began tearing into his food, only now realizing how hungry he was. From the corner of his eyes he saw Eliot do the same._ _

__Their bodies were still touching, a single line down from shoulders to thighs, and in that short moment in time, everything was good._ _


End file.
